Light Into Darkness
by Kora
Summary: *Finished* June 22. Sequel to right in front of your nose. becca receives two letters, and one holds a bit of a surprise. also, skittery's already darkish life gets darker (it's not that bad, trust me), then a bit of light pierces the darkness. and i'
1. Kingston

Disclaimer--none of the newsboys belong to me, they belong to Disney __

Disclaimer--none of the newsboys belong to me, they belong to Disney. I do not claim to own them. The newsgirls plus Becca and most other little characters are mine, but the newsboys aren't but don't sue me b/c you wouldn't get anything b/c I have nothing.

****

Light Into Darkness

August. Its long, sticky days drag by languidly, while the heat sticks to the nape of your neck and refuses to let go. Not even shade or dark of night brings the temperature down a degree. The only breeze that rustles the leaves is a moist, warm one that brings little comfort. In July, the heat is sizzling, but it is a dry heat. A dry heat that still allows for movement and activity. There's no escaping August's suffocating humidity.

The disposition of the newsies was not differing much from the mood of the month. Activity was at an all-time low, as it was too hot to do much other than sit. Sometimes, the effort of working your jaw to talk was not worth the sweat. Selling had lost its zest--heavy arms sluggishly hauled leaden newspapers up into the air as drained voices called out poorly improved headlines. Even the great Cowboy had lost his selling vivacity. It did not matter much, though. The people in the streets bought a paper without even bothering to pay attention to the headlines, their apathy caused by the insufferable heat.

Becca was the only one who wasn't bothered to near immobility by the heat, as she was accustomed to such temperatures due to her time in Santa Fe. So one would expect Becca, with her bright personality, to be the one vibrant shimmer in the dull August world of colors melted together into a drab glob. Becca, however, had been walking around in a monotonous cloud ever since Dave's departure three weeks before. Had the situation been different, someone, most likely Jack or Hazel, would have noticed the slump Becca was in and found a way to get her out of it. The accursed heat, however, plunged everyone into the same sea of unresponsiveness as Becca. Yet, on one day, two pieces of paper changed everything.

***

The newsies were sitting listlessly around Tibby's when Becca walked in, a certain briskness in her step that had been absent since the Weeks of No Emotion. _(the weeks since Dave's departure and the beginning of the heat wave, as I have dubbed them. It may be a dumb name, but I'm the author of this here story, so there)_ Thanks to an (ever so) slight drop in the temperature, Jack noticed the change.

"Somet'in interestin' happen?" he asked as she flopped down beside him. Becca held up two envelopes.

"I stopped by the Lodging House to pick up different songs for work this afternoon, and Kloppman gave these to me. He said they arrived this morning, just after we left." _(note--I'm not too sure of how exactly the postal system in 1900's New York worked, but I don't think I'm too off and besides, and I don't think it matters that much anyway.)_

"Who're they from?" Hazel, who was sitting across from the Kelly siblings, queried. 

"One's from Dave," Becca's eyes sparkled briefly when she thought of him, but the twinkle disappeared in a second. "And the other's from," she glanced quickly over to Jack, "our father." Jack rolled his eyes.

"We forgave him already. He doesn't have ta keep tryin' ta be buddies with us."

"He's not doing any harm," scolded Becca. "And it's kind of sweet of him to keep up some form of communication with us, especially when he knows how enthusiastic you are about the entire idea." Jack was too hot to argue.

"Fine. Just read Dave's lettah foist."

"That's what I was planning on doing." The newsies perked up a bit at the prospect of hearing Dave's letter. Maybe his life had become more stimulating, if only mildly, than theirs had been as of late. The shimmer in Becca's eyes returned as she ripped open the envelope and fished out Dave's letters. She read it silently, eyes studying each word carefully, so as not to miss a thing.

"C'mon, ya gonna tell us what it says or not?" Racetrack pressed.

"He sent this the day after he arrived in Kingston. The name of his school is the Kingston Boys Learning Institution _(corny, I know.)_ So far, not much is happening, though he wasn't there for long when he wrote this letter. The people seem nice, not too many scabs. Basic stuff. Oh, wait, here's one thing. Dave found out why they made him leave for school so early. Apparently, each year, the school invites more boys to attend than they have room for in their regular classes.

"For the end of July and all of August, they put everyone in introductory courses and give them mini-tests. During the last week of August, the teachers give the students a series of tests. The ones with high enough scores stay at the school, and the those who's scores aren't high enough are sent home." The newsies talked amongst themselves. A miniscule chance for Dave to come back home had presented itself. But to do that, Dave would have to flunk out, and their Walking Mouth was much to smart for that. And they wouldn't want him to pass up his chance at a good education for that, either. So it was with a bittersweet, melancholy feeling that Becca moved on to her father's letter.

Her eyes skimmed the letter. "What's it say?" inquired Jack lazily. He didn't really care all that much, but that was mainly due to the temperature. He was also asking in effort to make amends for his slight rudeness earlier about the letter.

"Nothing much," Becca replied. "Same old, same old. His job's going well, he's making more friends, we still have an open invitation to come visit whenever we want for as long as we want…" Becca trailed off as shock immersed her features. It took Jack longer than it usually would have to notice, but everyone was slower in the weather. He finally did notice, though, and concern adorned his voice.

"Becky, ya okay?"

"I can't believe I didn't notice earlier, with the return address…"

"Becky, what?"

"It's our father, he lives…"

"Lives wheah?"

"Kingston."


	2. Developments

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tibby's was silent. An astounded, pin-drop, crickets-chirping silence. Slowly, Becca stood. "I, um, should be heading back to work now." She exited, a very torn, confused look on her face. Inside her, there was a war going on. What should she do? Becca forced these thoughts from her head. _'Now is not the time. You need to concentrate for work. You can worry about this later.'_

***

Back at Tibby's, the newsies broke out of their trance and resumed eating, although they knew what Becca was thinking. Hazel gazed over to Jack. He too appeared torn. She moved from her seat across from him and slide down beside him. "Jack," she said softly. The newsie leader shifted back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"Ya okay?"

"Yeah, Ise fine." Seeing Hazel's dubious look, he sighed heavily. "Not really. I know what Becky should do, but I know t'at she ain't gonna be too comfortable with it." Hazel nodded in understanding.

"You're gonna have ta talk it over with her. We know that she knows deep down what she wants. But she's gonna be scared, and you're the only person who is gonna be able to assure her that it'll be alright. Not even me or Dave or Spot could do that, not in this situation." Jack agreed,

"I know. I just don't know how easy t'at's gonna be." Hazel and Jack lapsed into silence.

***

A few tables away, Ebony put her food down and turned to Clover, who was trying not to make it obvious that she kept glancing over in Skittery's direction. "Alright, ya've put it off long enough. Now, admit t'at ya've got a crush on Skitts." 

"I do no--" Clover noticed the disbelief on Ebony's face. "Well, maybe."

"Maybe? Ya asked him ta dance, made him dance, with ya at Dave's farewell party. And ya've been starin' at him every spare chance ya get." Clover shook her head,

"I don't have a crush on him, at least not the way you're thinking. Yeah, I like Skittery, but I'm drawn to him for other reasons as well." Ebony's eyebrows raised,

"Like what?"

"Like that the happy 'Skitts' that we see joking around with Bumlets, Snoddy, and Dutchy at the table over there isn't really Skittery. That it's just an act, and he's covering up for all the lonely, angst-ridden feelings he has." Ebony was certain of Clover's sincerity--she was exactly the type who would be drawn to someone like what Clover was describing of Skittery. Now, however, Ebony was skeptical about what Clover had said about Skittery. She glanced over at him, to find that he was indeed laughing and joking with Bumlets, Snoddy, and Dutchy.

"I don't get it. Skitts don't feel like t'at, does he? I mean, shoah, Skitts has always been kinda broodin', 'least more t'en the rest of us, but not anyt'in like yoah sayin', is he?"

" He is. I can just feel it. And I want to…I'm not sure exactly what, but I want to bring at least a little light into his life. And I'm determined to do so. I don't want him, won't let him, go through such pain alone."

***

Becca walked up to the Lodging House to see Jack waiting there for her. "Hi, Jack," she called tiredly.

"Hey, Becky. Lissen, can we talk?"

"Sure. Just let me put my guitar away." Jack followed Becca up to her room. Once she put her guitar away, he spoke again.

"Ya should go, ya know." 

"What?" Becca's head snapped up towards Jack.

"Ya know what I'm talkin' about--ya should go. Ya really miss Dave, and I know he misses ya a lot too. And ya get along so much bettah with our fa'tah then I do. It'd be good foah ya ta go visit him." Becca sank down onto her bed, and Jack followed her action.

"I--I don't know," Becca stuttered, "I mean, I really, really, do miss Dave, and I have been thinking a lot about it, but…"

"But yoah scared," Jack finished for her softly. Becca bit her lip and nodded slightly, looking down at the floor.

"I know it's stupid."

"No, no it's not," Jack hugged her around the shoulders. "Feah nevah makes sense, and besides, in t'is case ya got a reason ta be scared."

"I'm scared of leaving you. I'm scared that something's gonna happen, like what happened before even though it was so long ago. I've loved my life so much after I found you again. I don't want to lose you a second time." Jack pulled his sister closer.

"I know. Ise uncomfortable 'bout it too, havin' ya so far away from me and everyt'in'. But it's best foah ya ta go, ya really should go. If anyt'in happens, which it probably won't, but if anyt'in does happen on t'e way t'ere, Dave oah our fa'tah will find ya and it'll be okay." Becca laughed a little,

"Usually you're so overprotective. What happened?"

"Hazel." The sixteen-year-old smiled. "So is this entire thing all her idea?"

"No. I knew inside t'at ya should go, I was just scared t'at somet'in might happen ta ya, but she gave me basically t'e same pep talk I gave ya."

"It'll be okay, like you said. I'll be fine," Becca stated. Yet, Jack detected a slight tremor in Becca's voice.

"So yoah goin' ta Kingston, t'en?"

"Yes."


	3. Sojourns

Note--I just want to add something here that I noticed that I didn't make very clear at the end of the last chapter __

Note--I just want to add something here that I noticed that I didn't make very clear at the end of the last chapter. Becca isn't moving to Kingston, she's just going there to visit for a couple weeks.

Chapter 3

Skittery made his way back to the Lodging House. Throughout the entire afternoon, he hadn't been able to shake the feeling that he had been watched, and talked about, during lunch that day. _'Probably weren't sayin' nuttin' good, eit'ah,' _he thought cynically. But the attention seemed to have come from Ebony and Clover's, especially Clover's, direction. And she certainly wasn't the type to say anything bad about anyone, certainly not behind their back, without pointing out all of the person's good traits.

Still…he wasn't sure. But it **was** Clover…that girl intrigued him, to say the least. She was so compassionate, so optimistic, so…his opposite. She had definitely seen all the bad things the world had to offer (it was a certain look behind the eyes, you could only notice it if you yourself had been through similar experiences and seen similar things) and yes she had come through so differently. How? Skittery was baffled.

It didn't matter anyway, though. He would never be able to be like Clover. Sure, the guys may think he was normal enough, a little brooding but nothing major, however, he wasn't. The things he had seen, the things he had been through…it was impossible to be a happy, unburdened person after that. The world, the REAL world, was such a dark, cold, cruel place. What was the point of pretending it didn't bother you, pretending that the light and good out there were stronger? "It's only setting yoahself up for disappointment," Skittery muttered.

***

After telling the others of her decision, Becca headed to Medda's. The newsies were sad to see her go, but it was just a visit, after all, and they agreed with Jack and Hazel: it was best for her to go. So Becca went to Medda's, intending to ask for a favor. She wanted to leave as soon as possible so she could get to Kingston and have a few weeks with David before his testing began. However, if she sent a letter to her father, it wouldn't get there for a few weeks.

Instead, Becca asked Medda if she would send a telegraph. The sixteen-year-old would need the money in her savings to buy a train ticket, and she didn't have enough for that and a telegraph. Becca refused to let Jack help her buy a train ticket ("tickets to Kingston don't cost **that** much") and she assured her brother that their father would buy a ticket for a ride back to the city ("and if he doesn't, I'll find a way back. I've had luck with sneaking aboard trains before, it's really not that hard.") 

Medda instantly agreed to send a telegraph to Rhys and it wasn't long at all until a reply came back. Their father was delighted to have Becca, and if he happened to see Dave, he would make sure that the Jacobs son wouldn't see him. For Becca wished to surprise Dave with her visit, and if he saw Rhys, having Becca show up all of a sudden wouldn't be as much of a surprise.

***

The day Becca was to leave came and passed. She was leaving at night, so she could sleep on the train and arrive in Kingston around lunchtime. Luckily, she managed to get the next few weeks off _(unrealistic, I know, but please just bear with me, it's such a minor detail.)_ Becca embraced all of the newsies before leaving until she reached the cluster off to the side: Spot, Ebony (who still weren't talking), Hazel, and Jack. She went to the girls first, hugging all of them. "Now remembah t'at left hook I showed ya," Ebony said tearfully, "ya got a mean right hook, but yoah left really needs woik…ya gotta watch out in new places…"

"Ebony," Becca stated, "I'm going away for a few weeks. I'll be back before you know it..

"Not soon enough," returned Clover.

"Clover," sighed Becca after hugging her. She leaned in and whispered in the red-haired girl's ear, "you write and tell me all about Skittery." Seeing Clover's speechless look, she added, "Ebony was right. You are making it too obvious. But don't worry, no one else, except maybe Spot and he knows everything, has noticed." Clover nodded, and let Becca move on to Hazel. The dirty-blond haired newsie hesitated only a second before throwing her arms around Becca's shoulders, bawling.

"I can't believe you're leavin'! What am I gonna do without ya? I'm gonna soak Davey, he's takin' my best friend away from me!" Becca patted Hazel's shoulder. Hazel was sensitive about losing people, she'd lost so many, but…

"I'm not gonna be gone for long, don't worry. And I thought you were the one who talked Jack into letting me go."

"That was before ya actually were about ta leave!" Becca hugged Hazel back, who composed herself in a few moments. "Alright, I'm better now."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Becca shuffled over to Spot. It was then that her chin began wobbling as she saw Spot's famous smirk fade after Hazel, Clover, and Ebony walked away to give them some privacy. "Spot," she started, "I--"

"Aw, Angel, don't get t'at sad look on yoah face," he tapped her chin with his knuckle. "Alright, c'mere." Spot wrapped Becca in a bear hug. When they parted, his smirk returned.

"Now, kiddo, if anyone ovah t'ere tries ta mess with ya, tell 'em t'at t'ey'd bettah get off yoah back 'less t'ey want ta bring t'e wrath of Spot Conlon down on t'eir heads."

"Your reputation spreads that far?"

"I got my boidies. No one messes with my cousin. But I don't t'ink I'll have ta worry. Ya do got Conlon blood in ya, aftah all." A wet laugh escaped Becca's lips. The Brooklyn leader glanced over her shoulder to see Jack, his eyes glued to the ground below him. Spot gave Becca a final hug before steering her over to her brother.

There they stood for awhile, until the conductor called, "All aboard, all aboard! The train for Kingston leaves in 5 minutes!" Becca turned a shade paler and began shaking, 

"J-Jack, I don't think I can do this." The golden-haired newsie didn't wait a moment longer. He enveloped Becca in a massive, crushing hug. 

"Yes, yes ya can. Yoah strong. Yoah my sistah."

"But Jack, what if something happens?" Becca's chin wobbled extremely, "I can't, I can't go through anything like that again." Jack pulled away from Becca and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Lissen ta me. Ya will be fine. Ya can do t'is. And if I don't get a telegraph back by t'e day aftah tamorrow t'at ya made it ta Kingston safe, me'n Spot will come aftah ya, okay?" Yet, Becca detected a gleam in Jack's eyes that could only be a wall of unshed tears. She nodded. Jack glanced at the train, for the conductor had just called out the one minute warning. He gave her one last hug before ushering her onto the train. "I love ya, little sis,"

"I love ya, big bro." Jack watched as the locomotive pulled away. Many different thoughts, fear, confusion, pride, love, logic, buzzed around in his head. They were silenced as Spot came up beside Jack and spoke.

"It feels like she's been heah foahevah. I can hardly remembah what it was like befoah she got heah."

"Well, Spot, we're about ta find out."


	4. 

I know I've said this a million times, but it's as true the first time as it was now __

Yeah I made a few little adjustments to this chapter, nothing major, just toned the sappy stuff down a bit. 

Chapter 4

Becca's eyelids fluttered open. A ray of sun had obstinately decided to shine directly into her eyes. "Ugh," she mumbled. It had taken her forever to fall asleep that night--the train was especially loud, or at least it had seemed so. Becca couldn't have been awake for more than a handful of seconds when the train uttered an ear-splitting whistle and screeched to a halt. She hauled herself up from her seat and stumbled down the aisle. When the breeze from the outside and the sun fully hit her face, Becca shook her head and woke up completely. She spied a blurred figure waving at her. The sixteen-year-old squinted, and realized that it was her father.

Becca hopped out of the train and went over to meet her father. They stopped a few inches away from each other, unsure of how to greet one another. Soon, Rhys stuck out his hand, and Becca grasped it, shaking it firmly. The both of them laughed, somewhat nervously. "Shall we get your things?" Rhys asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Becca replied. She had packed lightly, just her bag and guitar. The conductor had allowed her to take the bag onto the train car, but insisted that she put her guitar in the luggage department. They spotted it quickly, being the only guitar there, and Rhys hefted it up. The father and daughter walked along to Rhys's apartment in relative silence, each unsure of what to say. Eventually, Becca spoke,

"So I, uh, noticed that you lost the accent." Rhys gave his daughter a sheepish smile,

"Yes, I'm not sure exactly how it happened. Must be because I'm not in the city anymore…I'm really not sure how it happened, though. _(it happened mainly because I don't want to write another NY accent)_ Ah, here we are." Rhys stopped in front of a pleasant-looking tenement and headed up the stairs. "I'm only a few flights up, so we won't have to climb that far," he called over his shoulder at Becca.

"That's okay," she called back. "I wouldn't have minded going far up. Dave's apartment was near the middle of the building." They reached the apartment, and Rhys let them in. He walked into a bedroom and leaned Becca's guitar against the far wall. The brown-eyed girl followed him. "Oh, no, you don't have to give me your room. I can sleep anywhere, on the fire escape even."

"But I'm not," Rhys replied. "I mean, I would give you my room, but" he led her out into the main room and indicated another bedroom over to the right.

"Oh," Becca blushed. She looked down at her feet, "I'm really not that good at this whole daughter thing." Rhys placed his hands on Becca's shoulders,

"And I don't expect you to be. You haven't had much of a father to be a daughter to. You're a much better daughter than I am father." Becca gave him a warm smile.

"You're trying your best, and not doing as bad as you think you are. We're both new to this father-daughter thing, and we'll get better at it. We just need some practice."

"Here," he said, somewhat flustered. "Let me give you a tour, then I have to leave. I managed to get an extended lunch break, but I need to be back soon."

"Okay. Oh and we'll have to send a telegraph back to Medda tonight or Jack and Spot will show up in a couple of days looking for me."

"I'll make sure to do that." Rhys led Becca around his apartment. It consisted of two bedrooms, a bathroom that was situated between the two rooms, and a living room/kitchen. The kitchen was well-equipped while the living room was sparsely furnished. It contained a couch, a chair, and a table. 

Rhys's eyes brushed past the window, noted something, then he checked his watch. "I really have to go now."

"Oh, okay," replied Becca. "I can just stay here." Rhys nodded,

"Yes, that you could," he paused. "It's been louder lately in the afternoons here in Kingston. See, the Institution lets the boys out around this time, and they don't have classes in the afternoons…" Becca's eyes widened. She glanced out the window, and, sure enough, a group of boys could be seen in the square below. Becca dashed out the door. Rhys chuckled and shook his head. A second later, Becca ran back into the room, gave her father a quick hug, and rushed back out.

***

Dave sighed as he shifted the weight of the books in his arms. _'I wonder when I'll get a reply back from Becca and the others.'_ He felt the familiar throbbing pain in his chest as the thought of the city. Had it only been the newsies Dave was forced to leave behind, it would only be a dull ache that he felt. But leaving Becca…that hurt the worst. Dave had made friends, he was surrounded by and heading off to lunch with them now. But they weren't family. The newsies were family. 

Davey sighed again, longer and heavier this time. He halted, watching and hearing one of Kingston's newsies "carry the banner." _'Jack would have a fit if he heard how sloppily improved the headlines are.'_

"Jacobs, c'mon," one of Dave's peers yelled, "you coming with us to lunch or not?" Dave winced. The people here were nice enough, but they had the annoying habit of never calling anyone by their first name.

"I'll be there in a second!" Dave shouted back.

***

Becca sped through the streets parallel to the square, searching for Dave. Her eyes lit up when they rested upon a well-known curly haired figure. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, and noticed that Dave was lagging behind in the group he was walking with. He seemed to be looking at something. It was a newsie! A mischievous grin appeared on Becca's face. She crept over to where Davey was standing.

***

David was about to rejoin his group when he heard a voice that struck a chord in his memory. "Buy me last pape, mistah?" While telling himself to _'stop being silly, that's impossible,'_ Dave turned around. And froze.

***

Becca waited in suspense as Dave turned around. She observed the stunned look on his face with amusement, and waited for him to process what was happening. He seemed to take forever, and she finally decided to snap him out of it. "Dave? Are you ok--" Becca didn't finish because Dave had broken out of his trance and slammed into her. Before she knew it, Dave's books had bitten the dust and she was being swung around and around. Gradually, Dave let Becca down. She flung her arms around his neck. _(arg this is getting SO sappy…sigh…and this is only the fourth chapter)_ Dave held Becca close,

"I've missed you SO much!" he cried out.

"I've missed you too. A lot," added Becca. They stood there for awhile, holding each other. Dave's friends stopped and came towards the pair, curious about what was going on. Dave pulled back a bit from Becca and grinned widely at her, who smiled brightly back. Then Dave kissed her, putting everything he couldn't communicate in words into the kiss. Becca kissed him back, speaking her own feelings of joy to see him. They broke apart after a couple seconds, disrupted by the whistles and catcalls coming from the group of boys from Dave's school.

Becca and Davey blushed crimson, "friends of yours?" Becca murmured.

"Yeah," Dave whispered back, not entirely sure why he was whispering, "but they're not that bad. C'mon, let's go have lunch with them and I can introduce you, and you can tell me what you're doing here."

"Okay." Becca's hand found Dave's, and they headed off down the street.


	5. 

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first morning in Manhattan without Becca dawned. Kloppman resumed his chore of waking the boys up in the morning. Jack again woke with a start to Kloppman's voice. He flew out of his bed and was halfway down the hall when he remembered where Becca was, or wasn't. He halted, turned dejectedly around, and trudged into the bathroom. The other newsies watched the entire scene, but no one dared to say anything for fear that it would only make Jack more upset. As they were heading out of the Lodging House, Blink decided that someone ought to talk with Jack, just to make sure he was okay.

"Hey, Cowboy," he smacked Jack on the back in a friendly way. _(like guys do when they greet each other. I never understood it. It's like 'hey, glad to see you, let me give you a bruise on your back'…yeah don't listen to me, it's 7:40 in the morning and I'm rambling)_. "Ya want a sellin' partnah foah taday?"

"I t'ought ya sold with Mush," replied Jack glumly.

"I do, but we talked and if ya want someone ta sell with ya taday I can sell with ya." Jack stared at Blink,

"T'is ain't 'cuz ya think I'm all depressed and ya want ta cheer me up, is it?"

"It may be. Ya gotta admit, yoah actin' kinda like Skittery." Jack scowled at Blink, but didn't answer him. The sandy-haired newsie shook his head and began to walk away. "Well, if ya evah need anyt'in', wese all heah…and try not ta be down in t'e dumps t'e entire time till she gets back. She'd smack ya upside t'e head if she knew how depressin' yoah actin'." Jack's scowl disappeared as Blink left. He treaded to the Distribution Office with something to mull over for the morning.

***

Jack and Blink weren't the only ones mentioning Skittery that morning. Clover and Ebony, however, were discussing him in greater detail. "Come on, Clover, spill! Ya haven't said a woid 'bout him since t'at day at Tibby's!"

"That's because nothing else has happened. There isn't anything more to say."

"T'ere's no way ya could have told me everyt'in."

"Ebony," Clover whirled around in exasperation on the eighteen-year-old. The heat and Becca's absence combined to make everyone, including Clover, snappier than usual. Not to mention that Ebony had been pestering Clover about Skittery ever since she had admitted to an interest in him. Suddenly, a bulb flicked on in Clover's head. "Alright, I'll tell you everything about Skittery if you tell me everything about Spot." Ebony reeled back in shock. She almost dropped the cup that the nuns had given her, and nearly missed the roll they were trying to give her.

"T'ere's nuttin' ta tell," she hissed, not daring to speak his name with so many others around to hear it.

"Oh please, Ebony," pressed Clover, eyes dancing. "There's nothing for you to tell about Spot the same way I have nothing to say about Skittery." Ebony's eyes darted around apprehensively at all the newsies surrounding her, hoping no one was overhearing their conversation. She gave in,

"Fine." Ebony grabbed Clover's arm and pulled her down the street, away from everyone else. Clover munched her roll, waiting for what Ebony had to say, resembling someone crunching popcorn during the previews before a movie. 

"Well?" Ebony made a face, like someone had poured thick cough syrup down her throat. The very idea of saying what she was about to say nauseated her.

"I don't hate Spot." Clover's face fell,

"That's all? That can't be--"

"T'at's all. He proved ta me t'at he can be human around anyone if he chooses ta. I can't hate him, 'specially not a guy that cares foah Becca t'e way he does. But I don't like him." Clover opened her mouth to reply, but Ebony wasn't finished. A thought had occurred to her, and she had seemingly forgotten about Clover's presence. 

"Alt'ough, he was decent ta me only 'cuz I told him he wouldn't be. He had ta show me t'at t'e mighty Spot Conlon can conquah anyt'in t'rown at him. He had ta prove t'at he's t'e best. Arg, he makes me so mad! I take t'at back, I DO hate him!" Ebony threw down the remainder of her roll and stomped off to get her papers. Shaking her head, Clover ran to catch up with her best friend.

***

Skittery was sitting with Specs, Snitch, and Bumlets at Tibby's. Only today, he hadn't joined in on the conversation. Instead, he ate his lunch and stared out the window silently. Since this wasn't uncommon for their friend to do, the others left him alone. They knew it was best to do so when he was in one of his moods.

***

Hazel was in a booth with Clover and Ebony. She had been warned earlier by the former not to mention a certain Brooklyn newsie, even in passing, or the latter would start again on her list of the evils of Spot Conlon. Clover had unwillingly received the entire twenty minute sermon that morning. Having been warned, Hazel stayed away from the subject, watching Clover play her usual game of 'try to not let the others notice that I keep glancing at Skittery.'

"It is really obvious," Hazel burst out, though not loudly. Clover turned back to her friends and sighed, picking at her food. 

"I just wish I could go up there and talk to him, but I wouldn't have anything to say. We're so different…sure, we're friends, but whenever we've talked it's always been casual conversation. Nothing real. And he's not in the mood for talking today, anyway."

"When IS he in the mood?" muttered Ebony.

"Ebony," Hazel scolded. She turned back to Clover, only to see that she was watching Skittery again. Sighing, Hazel directed her attention back to her lunch.

***

Skittery was idly watching people pass by Tibby's when a certain figure caught his eye. He felt his heart miss a beat--it wasn't possible, was it? He hadn't seen her for 14 years, and she should be dead, but she certainly looked like she could be. No, he was seeing things. These sort of thoughts had been on his mind ever since Becca arrived, but especially since Thomas Conlon had shown up out of the blue. He was just imagining it.

Still…he had been really cynical for a long time. Should he allow his pessimism to ruin what could be a chance that he probably wouldn't even have again? Making up his mind, Skittery grabbed his hat and proceeded to leave Tibby's. "I'm goin' foah a walk," he informed the others. No one batted an eye or even bothered to look up. Leaving like that wasn't out of character for Skittery when he was in this mood. Protesting would only anger him.

***

Clover looked up to see Skittery leaving. Deciding that it was now or never (to make at least some form of connection with him), she said to her friends, "I'm going after him, just say I had something to do," and hurried outside. She caught Skittery about to walk into the street. "Hey Skittery!" she cried, "where are you going?" Skittery turned, an urgent look on his face. 

"Aftah hoir," he pointed. Clover followed his finger. 

"Who is she?"

"My sistah," Clover was floored, and it was evident.

"Your sister?" Skittery's eyes swerved back over to where his sister was standing. Good. She was still there, talking to someone. 

"Well, I don't know foah shoah t'at she's my sistah, but look at hoir! She looks like me, and even moah like my mot'ah! What if she wasn't on t'at train when it derailed?" Clover began to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She did not want to do what she had to do--she was never one to crush someone's hopes, sometimes hope was all a person had. But it would only hurt Skittery more if that wasn't his sister, which it most likely wasn't.

"Skittery," she voiced, slowly, softly, pulling him onto the sidewalk. Skittery was getting impatient.

"What?"

"Skittery, she's not your sister. I mean, she could be, possibly, maybe, but the chances…" The newsboy's eyes flashed,

"Why not? Jack found Becca, and what were t'e chances foah t'at? T'en t'ey found t'eir grandpa, with small chances, and it turned out t'ey were related to Spot! T'ey've had so much luck, why shouldn't it woik with me? I need ta find out if she is or isn't. And she is, she has ta be."

Skittery freed himself from Clover's grip on his arm and headed intently across the street to where his sister was. Clover watched him go, heart sinking. She may have a positive outlook on life, but she was a realist. If that wasn't Skitttery's sister, it would crush him. And Clover didn't know if Skittery could handle any more disappointment in life.


	6. 

Thank you everyone for all of your awesome reviews __

Thank you everyone for all of your awesome reviews! I think I've emailed all of you at least once thanking you except for Solitaire, and that's because I'm not sure if I have your address or not. So thank you, Solitaire, for all of your great reviews and encouragement!

Chapter 6

Becca had been introduced to Dave's school friends, and she successfully convinced them that although she was together with Dave, she refused to be labeled/seen as "his girl." She then admitted to Dave that his friends really weren't "that bad."

"So," asked Dave, "you've been here for half an hour. You gonna tell me or not--what are you doing here?"

"Visiting you."

"How? Where are you staying?"

"With my father. He lives here. I'm visiting him, too." Dave was not as surprised as the others had been when he found out that Becca's father lived in Kingston. He did smile broadly, though.

"That's great! How long are you staying?"

"For a couple weeks. So are you going to sow me anything besides the local version of Tibby's and the park?"

"But the park has history," Dave protested, a joking tone in his voice. Becca rolled her eyes as she stood up, though she couldn't keep the grin from her face.

"What history?"

"Our history," returned Dave, who had also stood up. He continued, doing his best to keep a straight face. "We had a very important discussion of ours in a park."

"That was Central Park. This is just Kingston Park. And if I remember correctly, our discussion must not have been too important because we both got up in the middle of the night to change it." Dave held up his hands in defeat, also losing the battle to keep a grin off his face.

"Alright, you won. We'll go somewhere else. Though I must warn you, I don't know this town very well. I've spent most of my free time in the dorm _(what are the bedrooms at boarding schools called?)_ or at the restaurant with the others.

"So you haven't been harassing the local newsies?" Becca teased, "not trying to get them to go on strike?" Dave tried to look hurt, but he wasn't very successful. 

"Now, what would make you say a thing like that?" Instead of answering, Becca gazed at him for awhile. Finally she spoke, and this time her voice was serious, albeit warm.

"I've missed you." A contented smile crept onto Dave's face. He pulled her into a hug,

"I've missed you too."

"You gonna take me on that tour now?"

"Of course," Dave extended his arm. Becca stared at him,

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"What?"

"The arm thing. I feel like I'm supposed to be a lady or something." Dave glanced at Becca, who glanced back. The pair dissolved into laughter. Dave took Becca's hand,

"This better?"

"I can play along with the arm thing if you want." Becca commented.

"You know if you keep this up we're never going to get out of the park."

"You make it sound like that's my fault."

"That's 'cause it is." Dave jested.

"No it's not, it's yours," retorted Becca.

"How?"

"Has anything you've said since we've gotten to this park been serious?"

"I meant it when I said I missed you."

"Besides that."

"That I don't know much about this town. And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Has anything you've said since we've gotten to this park been serious?" Dave echoed Becca's question.

"I meant it when I said I missed you." Becca copied Dave's answer.

"Besides that."

"Not really." The two couldn't keep it up any longer. They broke out laughing again, even though their pretend arguments weren't as fun without the newsies around to spectate and shake their heads at. Dave led Becca out of the park, talking about a somewhat abridged tour of Kingston.

"We're gonna have to make sure my father sends a telegraph back to the city or Jack and Spot will show up in a few days, looking for me." Dave chuckled,

"That would be kind of funny, having those two around for a little while. I could let them sit in on one of my classes…"

"It would," agreed Becca, laughter in her voice. "But Jack would NOT be happy if we scared him like that, he'll be worried sick till he knows I'm okay."

"I know. It would just be really nice, to see them and everything."

"Yeah," Becca began to get a faraway look in her eyes. Dave noticed it,

"You miss Jack, don't you?" Becca nodded. Then it dawned on Dave,

"Wait a minute…you're terrified of leaving the city! Why'd you do it?"

"Because it meant that I'd get to see you." Dave was touched, and he embraced her tightly. He felt her trembling slightly--all of her anxiety over something happening if she left New York was being released from her limbs.

"Well, it's okay now. You're here, and I will not let anything happen to you."

"I know," whispered Becca. She glanced around, and pulled herself together. "Am I going to get that abridged tour or what?" Dave smiled, and led her down the street, point out buildings as they went.

__

Alright, I know that this chapter isn't significant to the plot at all, but I just started writing and this is what came out. Now that I look back on it, it seems kind of sappy or flowery or teenybopper or you catch my drift. If it is, tell me, and I'll take this chapter down, I don't really care. And I apologize in advance for how short the next chapter is. I just got to a part that I thought would make a really good ending, and I also knew that if I continued, I wouldn't be able to finish the chapter in time to have it posted today, so that's why it's so short.


	7. 

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Meanwhile, back in Manhattan… _

Skittery ran across the street and arrived on the sidewalk just as his sister finished talking to whoever she was talking to. _'She cointenly looks grown-up foah someone who's only 16,'_ he thought. He noticed her finely-made garments. _'She must have been adopted by a well-off couple.'_ Skittery's sister turned around and jumped when she so Skittery standing right beside her. "Oh!" Noticing the newsprint on his hands, she said,

"I'm sorry, I already bought a paper today." Skittery glanced down and his hands and blushed. 

"Oh, no, I don't have any papes left. I just wanted ta talk ta ya." Skittery's sister appeared puzzled, but this young man did not seem to be aiming to do her any harm. Besides, how much harm could he do in a bustling street? Skittery rubbed his hands on his pants, trying to get some of the newsprint off. Giving up, he extended a hand.

"Ise Skittery." His sister reached up and shook with the brown-haired newsie.

"My name is Emilia Rothschild." _(AN--hehe! Disclaimer--I stole the name Emilia Rothschild from my favorite character from the show "Jack of All Trades." This name belongs to Renaissance Pictures, not me. Please don't sue me, I have nothing but pennies. And Skittery's sister is not supposed to be the character from "Jack of All Trades," I just took the name because I like it.)_

"Emilia, that's a pretty name." _'Though not as pretty as Ashley,'_ he thought. 

"Mr. Skittery,"

"Just Skittery, please,"

"Alright, Skittery. What is it you want? I'm terribly sorry for my rudeness, but I cannot talk long or I will be late for an appointment."

"T'at's okay. I just wanted ta ask ya somet'in. Does t'e name Ashley ring any bells? Oah do ya remembah anyt'in from yoah childhood?" Emilia was taken aback. Why was this strange young man talking to her, and asking personal questions? But the despairing look in Skittery's eyes compelled her to answer him.

"I do not know of anyone by the name of Ashley. I can recollect enough of my childhood, I suppose. Why do you ask?" Skittery licked his lips and continued,

"What about anyt'in from when ya were about two?"

"Two years of age? I do not recollect anything. But I am of the knowledge that not many people do remember anything from when they are that young." Skittery was getting tired of beating around the bush. He decided to just be forward.

"Are ya shoah t'at yoah parents are yoah real parents? Are ya shoah t'at ya wasn't adopted?" Emilia had been quite trusting with Skittery, but she was beginning to get suspicious. 

"Mr. Skittery, by what authority do you come and say such things?"

"My parents died in a train wreck. I was told t'at my lit'le sistah, Ashley, died with them. She was only two. But ya look so much like my mot'ah…" Emilia's expression softened,

"I am sorry, Mr. Skittery, very sorry. But I can assure you that I was not adopted."

"How do ya know?" Skittery's desperation was mounting, "how can ya be shoah t'at ya didn't lose yoah memory or somet'in? How can ya be shoah t'at yoah parents adopted ya but nevah told ya about it?"

"Because, Mr. Skittery," Emilia's voice was thick with sorrow for the newsboy who had obviously suffered much, "because my family and I just moved here from London six months ago. I have lived there all my life until now." With a jolt, Skittery realized that Emilia had been speaking all along in a soft British accent. However, his longing for this girl to be his sister had not allowed his brain to register the accent.

"I am truly sorry, Mr. Skittery. I wish--I do wish I could help you more. Be who you want me to be. But I cannot, and now I must leave." Sending Skittery one last look of apology and sympathy, Emilia disappeared into the crowd. And took the last ray of hope Skittery had left in his entire being with her.


	8. 

Chapter 8 __

I was reading through this and thought that it kind of gets a little after-school special-ish at certain places. Just a warning in advance. Or maybe I'm just being really critical, I don't know.

Chapter 8

Clover never moved from the place Skittery had left her, not caring if anyone wondered why she was standing on a street corner. She saw Skittery go up to Emilia, talk with her, and watched Emilia walk away. From the look on Emilia's face as she parted from Skittery, Clover knew something was terribly wrong. Clover left the curb and pushed her way through the crowd to Emilia. "Excuse me, Miss?" she called. Emilia turned,

"May I help you?"

"My name is Clover. I'm a friend of Skittery's, and…" Emilia's face flooded with sadness again.

"Yes, Skittery. I think he is in great need of a friend right now." Clover did not need to be told any more. She shoved through the streets, only to find that Skittery was gone. She glanced around frantically, but there was no sign of him. Clover headed swiftly to the Lodging House, but when she arrived Kloppman informed her that Skittery had not been there since that morning. Clover went back out into the streets, furiously combing her brain for a clue as to where Skittery might be. 

_'Think, Clover, think! What do you know about him that might help you find him? His parents and sister died when a train derailed. He never mentioned why he wasn't on the train with them. He must have been visiting someone or something. Visiting--that's it! He's probably visiting his family at the graveyard they're buried in! But which graveyard? There's too many in the city for me to have a chance of finding him.'_ Clover decided that she had to try.

She sped to the nearest graveyard--no Skittery. A few more graveyards and still nothing. Eventually, Clover came to a graveyard that brought back unwanted memories. _'He couldn't be here, could he?'_ But there he was. Standing in from of two medium-sized gravestones and one little one. Clover knew he heard her come up beside him, but he didn't budge an inch. "Go away," he spat out.

"Skittery--"

"I said go away!" this time Skittery whirled around to face her, anger flaming in his eyes. "If ya hadn't said anyt'in, she might have been--"

"She might have been what, Skittery?" Clover's tone was not mocking, it was gentle. "She might have been your sister if I hadn't told you that she probably wasn't?" Instead of answering, Skittery turned back around and resumed staring at his family's graves. Clover waited for him to say something, but nothing came. So she decided to initiate a dialogue herself. "Why do you always shut everyone out, especially me?"

"Ya couldn't undastand." Skittery knew what he was saying wasn't true, but that was what had come out of his mouth. Not that it mattered, anyway, if it got her to leave him alone.

"Couldn't I?" Clover felt something she hadn't felt in a long time--genuine anger. Not a lot, just a twinge, but it was still enough to come through in her voice. This boy was beginning to frustrate her. His dreary look on the world and refusal to let anyone know or help him was only going to hurt himself and others in the end. Clover walked a few rows over and down a bit from Skittery until she stood in front of two particular gravestones. Taking a shaky breath, she read,

"Shamus McConnell. Born: November 16, 1849. Died: April 2, 1890. Mary McConnell. Born: February 27, 1850. Died: April 8, 1890. My real name is Bridgid. Bridgid McConnell. I don't think I need to tell you who these people are." Skittery's only reply was a quiet, although sincere,

"Ise sorry." Clover knew that she was going to have to say more if she wanted to get Skittery to open up. Telling him about her parents didn't bother her too much, especially if it would help Skittery take the first step towards healing.

"My father was killed in a drunken brawl. He wasn't even doing anything, he just happened to be passing by the bar on his way back from the factory, and was in the wrong place at the wrong time. When we got the news…my mother broke down. She killed herself a week later. That's what hurt the most, even more than my father's death. It was like he was the only thing that mattered to her in life. Like I wasn't important enough to live for." Clover swallowed hard. She hesitated, but forced herself to continue.

"Of course, Papa's death wasn't the only thing…with all the stress that his death caused Mama…she had a miscarriage a few days later. You're the only person in the world besides me who knows about that. I've told other people, Hazel and Ebony including, about my parents, but never anyone about the baby, my little brother or sister, until now." Clover saw Skittery's head droop lower.

"T'en why d'ya bot'ah ta continue? Ta be all happy, bright, cheery?" Clover moved to stand beside Skittery,

"Because staying depressed isn't going to help anyone or anything. Sure, a lot of the world is an awful place, but it's only going to stay that way or get worse if no one decides to make a difference." 

"Like I could evah make a difference," mumbled Skittery.

"That's what you don't understand. Sometimes, all it takes is a bright smile and a friendly attitude, and someone's life could be changed in a great way."

_'Like mine,' _Skittery found himself thinking. His cynical side soon pushed that thought back, "what does it mattah, I could nevah be t'at way. Ise too much t'e opposite. It'd be too hard."

"No it wouldn't." Clover laid a hand on Skittery's shoulder. "The hardest part is starting, and it progresses naturally from there." Skittery didn't say anything for a long time. Clover's spirits started sinking. Would Skittery ever even try to change? Suddenly, a voice--Skittery's voice--penetrated the silence.

"I was sick t'e day when my parents went ta visit my grandparents. T'ey took Ashley, my lit'le two-yeah-old sistah, with t'em. I stayed with a friend of t'e family. When I got t'e news of t'e accident…I was supposed ta go live with my grandparents, but I didn't want ta. It would mean t'at I'd have ta go on a train, and I was too scared. I also connected my grandparents with my parents' death. Unfaih, I know, but I was only four. I ran away, but someone found me a week oah two latah and put me in t'e orphanage. I met Blink and Dutchy t'ere, and we escaped and became newsies. I found out soon latah t'at my grandparents died, of old age. I also knew wheah my family was buried, but I nevah came ta visit, till now. T'ey told me t'at t'ey found t'e bodies, but I guess I always held on ta t'e hope t'at maybe t'ey didn't, and if I didn't see t'e gravestones t'en t'at meant t'at at least one of 'em was still alive. But with what happened taday…" Clover reached down and squeezed Skittery's hand, who surprisingly didn't try to push her away, physically or emotionally.

"I'll always be here if you need someone. Do you feel better, now that you've told someone?" Skittery nodded, he did feel better--lighter in a way.

"T'at all I gotta do?"

"No. But it will be easier from here, I promise. You still willing to give healing a shot?"

"I'll try."


	9. Letters

I just want to make a little note of something here: if this story, chapter, whatever, begins to seem like maybe I'm slipping or not paying as much attention or it's not as good or something like that, here's why __

I just want to make a little note of something here: if this story, chapter, whatever, begins to seem like maybe I'm slipping or not paying as much attention or it's not as good or something like that, here's why. About a week or two ago I got this awesome idea (well, at least I thought it was awesome, and the people that I've told so far have liked it and given me go-ahead's) for a story. I'm not gonna say what it is now, but this story has been gaining more and more of my thought and becoming clearer and clearer. Needless to say, I still love Light Into Darkness very much and will see it through to the end, but if the writing seems like it's not as focused, that's why.

Chapter 9

Clover and Skittery made their way back to Duane Street. They had spent the rest of the afternoon (since it was too late to go buy papers after their discussion at the gravestones) sitting on a bench in the graveyard. Skittery explained why he had been so melancholy all these years.

"There was never anyone to tell me not to be that way, 'least not until I met Blink and Dutchy. That wasn't until years after I got to the orphanage. Then, it was too late, I was already cynical, and didn't know how to turn back. Not that I would have really wanted to, anyway. So I just pretended to be more lighthearted than I really was, and that's what I've been doing all these years. Everyone's known that I'm glum, but no one's ever known how much until you."

"The others would be there for you, Skittery, you know that. They've all been through similar experiences. They just didn't know how bad you've been feeling."

"But now I don't need to tell them, do I? I mean, I told you. Isn't that enough?"

"Yes, it is. But it might help you to tell the others if you're having trouble healing. The more people you have to rely on, the better." Skittery didn't answer her. He was still uncomfortable with opening up to people. Clover left it at that. He'd progressed far enough for that day, no need to push him any further until at least tomorrow. Clover and Skittery were not surprised to find a group of newsgirls hanging around the Newsboys Lodging House. That was not an uncommon occurrence. Clover's eyebrows did raise to see Hazel pacing outside the door, however. 

"Hey, Hazel!" she called. Hazel's eyes sparkled briefly to see Clover walking over with Skittery. She shot a glance to Ebony, who's own eyes sparkled. Hazel soon returned to pacing, though. 

"I'm gonna go inside," Skittery whispered to Clover. "I need time…"

"It's alright. I understand." As Skittery trudged inside, Clover observed that he appeared to be somewhat back to normal. He was re-establishing the walls that he had worked so hard to build, then torn down. At least the walls seemed to be temporary this time, and not as strong as before. Right then, Ebony strode over to Clover and asked her what happened that afternoon. Clover answered her, glowing with triumph. "He opened up!" her voice contained as much excitement as you can get into a whisper.

"Opened up? What d'ya mean by opened up?"

"He told me what happened to make him so brooding all of these years. And he's willing to let me help him heal!" Ebony's eyebrows arched,

"And this is what's got ya so thrilled? All this mental and emotional stuff? I don't find that too excitin'." 

"That all depends on how you look at it. But enough of that--what's wrong with Hazel?"

"Aw, she ain't stopped pacin' since Jack left foah Medda's, and I don't think she's gonna stop till he gets back."

"Why?"

"He went ta Medda's ta see if Becca send a telegraph back yet."

"Ah." Suddenly, Hazel stopped and stiffened. She spotted Jack coming towards the Lodging House. Hazel sped over to where he was and took the relieved grin on his face as a good sign.

"So she's there?" Jack held up a piece of paper--the telegraph.

"Yeah, she's there. Arrived fine 'round lunch, and it wasn't half an hour 'fore she found Dave." Hazel smiled,

"How cute." Jack's grin turned lopsided,

"Yeah, I guess it is." Jack turned his attention to Clover, "how's Skitts?"

"He'll be okay." Clover answered. Feeling quite content with everything, she strolled to the Newsgirls Lodging House.

THREE WEEKS LATER

Scene: Kingston.

David walked out of his school building to find Becca waiting for him hold a previously opened envelope. "Hey," she greeted him. "How's school going?" 

"Normal enough," he replied. "We start the testing in two days…but let's not talk about that. Who's the letter from?"

"Clover," Becca responded. Dave took note of a certain twinkle in her eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked. Becca could hardly contain her excitement,

"You would not believe what's going on down there! I cannot believe we're missing all of this! And this happened two weeks ago, I wonder what it's like now!" Dave led Becca over to a bench,

"Well, are you going to read that or not?"

"Okay, okay, I'm reading." Becca pulled the letter out of the envelope and began.

__

Dear Becca,

You told me to write, so I'm writing. And you can go ahead and read all of this letter to Dave--I enclosed a separate letter for all of our "girl talk." Anyway, I hope the both of you are having fun, and tell Dave that all of us wish him the best of luck. I suppose you'd like to know what we've been doing with ourselves. And I'm also guessing that you're expecting to hear "same old, same old." Well, it's not. You're going to be so mad when you find out what you've missed, although if things keep heading in the direction they're going in now, it will be a common occurrence so you'll see it before long, 'cause I know you'll be coming back in a little over a week. But there's just something about seeing it, then hearing it, for the first time that's so amazing.

If I know you well enough, which I do, you're about to kill me if I don't tell you what "it" is. Actually, "it" is two things, and for "it" to make any sense, I'm going to have to tell you a little story. I'll try to condense it as much as possible. Oh and by the way, I have Skittery's permission to write everything that I've written in here.

The day after you left, Skittery was sitting in Tibby's when he saw someone who he could have sworn was his sister. Or at least what his sister would have looked like. She died 14 years ago with Skittery's parents when the train they were on derailed. It turned out that this young woman, Emilia, was not Skittery's sister. That really hurt Skittery, seeing as how he got his hopes all up, something he never did, only to have them deflated.

To make a long story short, I got Skittery to open up to me and he decided to try and heal. It wasn't an easy process or anything, and it's still going on, but it is not painstakingly slow, either. Then, a few days ago, Skittery came into Tibby's. He was one of the last of us to arrive, having just missed the main group that stampedes in each day. Dutchy said hi to him, and Skittery said hi back. And smiled. Sure, Skittery's smiled before, but not like this. A genuine smile. Nothing dazzling, but a real smile, nothing like the pretend smiles he used to flash around all the time. It just about stunned everyone, but they recovered quickly and didn't make a big deal out of it because they didn't want to make Skittery uncomfortable. So that was "it" number one.

"Wow," Dave murmured, "she did it. You've been trying to get a real smile out of him for almost a year."

"I know!" Becca replied, "isn't this great? But that's not all." She resumed reading.

_Then, this afternoon, "it" number two happened. And it floored everyone. Jack was joking around about something, I don't even remember what now. Probably doing one of his Pulitzer impressions again, where he waves his hands around in all those wild directions. Anyway, he laughed. Skittery, I mean, not Jack. It was a real, genuine, amused, happy, contented laugh. Once again, not one of those fake laughs that he used to throw around. Everyone noticed the difference. It was dead silent in the restaurant. Others had laughed at Jack's joke too, but Skittery's just stood out because no one had heard Skitts laugh like that before. _

Wow, what happened sounds a lot less amazing on paper. I guess it's just one of those things that you have to be there for. I think you kind of get it, though. With the way things are going, I'm sure the both of you will see a smile and/or a laugh or two, real ones, out of Skittery next time you're here. And Becca, the other stuff you wanted me to write is in the other letter. I hope the both of you are having a great time!

Love,

Clover.

"That's great!" cried Dave. "But what 'other stuff'?" Becca grinned at Dave mysteriously,

"Girl stuff. Not for the ears of anyone of the male race." She quickly folded up the envelope and shoved it out of Dave's reach in her pocket. "C'mon, let's go get lunch."

***

That night, Becca sat in her bed with her knees folded up to her chest. She pulled the other letter of Clover's out of its envelope. Having been so elated over the news of what was in the first letter, Becca hadn't gotten to the second. Now, she read (silently).

__

Hey Becca!

I'm sure that when you told me to write "all about" Skittery, the "all about" included to write about how I feel about him if anything changes. I haven't talked to anyone else about this yet because I want to know your take on the matter first. Mostly everyone else wants to know just to know, but I know you can offer real insight on everything. 

I don't know if I liked him from the beginning or not. I was definitely drawn to him from the perspective of wanting to brighten the dark cloud he was walking around under. I may have liked him a little, but I'm really not sure. But recently, especially with this new side to Skittery that I've never seen before appearing, I know for sure that I like him. Ugh, listen to me, I sound like a giggling schoolgirl gossiping off to the side of the playground. Oh well. It's just this new side to Skittery is, well, Skitts. I mean, the nickname fits so much better now than it did before. It's a funny, almost light-hearted, but also serious side. Skittery is a very deep person. He's still got a long way to go until he heals properly, but you can already see a significant difference. 

But I can't let Skittery know that I feel this way. Because then he may think that the only reason I pushed him to open up and heal was to get closer to him, which you know and I know and Hazel and Ebony know that isn't true. But something like that would completely destroy the trust Skittery has in me, and I can't let that happen, take that chance. If he came out and said something, that would be different. If only I could see into his mind…but I shouldn't dwell on this. I just needed to vent. I'm taking your approach on the whole matter. If something happens, something happens. It would have to be through Skittery, though. I'd rather leave it at a friendship than mess up our friendship.

Well, you can send a reply letter if you want, but you'll probably get here before it will so don't feel like you have to or anything. Can't wait to see you again! I know Jack really misses you, and so does Spot, but you know he won't admit it to anyone but Jack. 

See you soon!

Clover

Becca finished the letter and put it on the nightstand by her bed. With a knowing grin on her face, she drifted off to sleep.


	10. Into the Night

I know this is getting old, but thank you to everyone who has reviewed __

I know this is getting old, but thank you to everyone who has reviewed!!!!

Chapter 10

A figure raced through the early, early morning streets to the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House. He climbed hurriedly up the fire escape and banged in urgency at the bunkroom window. The boy was let in, and before long, this figure plus another larger one ran out of the Lodging House and into the night. Soon, the two figures parted ways--one to Brooklyn and one to Irving Hall.

***  
Becca was strumming her guitar to no particular tune when Rhys walked into the apartment. "Good, you're still here. I was worried that you wouldn't be." Becca stood slowly, a strange feeling invading her senses. Her father was out of breath, as if he had been in a hurry. He was tight-lipped, and his skin had lost much color. Sweaty hands held a piece of paper that was quivering slightly along with his hands.

"I usually stay here in the morning. Why are you back from work so early? It's still half an hour till lunch. What is it?" Rhys inhaled, then exhaled slowly,

"It's your grandfather--Samantha's father. He's sick." It took Becca a second to register what was going on as a tight hand grasped her stomach and squeezed. She fought to relieve the pressure,

"What?" she squeaked. In the place of a vocalized answer, Rhys held out the paper. Becca took it hesitantly, as if reading this paper would make what she had just heard real, not some figment of her imagination. The telegraph was short. It had been sent the night before, or rather, early in the morning. Thomas Conlon was indeed sick, gravely ill to be precise. The paper implored her to come back quickly, if at all possible. Becca finished reading and looked up at her father, eyes full of questions. Rhys pressed some money into her palm,

"There. A train for the city leaves in an hour. Get your things together and go on it. I'd go with you, but because I am not directly related to Thomas, I cannot get off work for another few hours. I'll catch the next train I can. There are things that I wish to tell Thomas, much like the things I told you and your brother when we were first reunited." Becca nodded--a distant, far-away nod. She was still having trouble believing all that was happening, and how fast it was happening. Rhys gave Becca a hug, "I'll be going now, so that I can leave work early," and walked out the door.

Becca stood where he left her for a bit, until what was going on fully sunk in. She broke out of her trance and shoved her guitar in its case. Rushing into her room, Becca threw her things into her bag. She paused only long enough to sling her bag across her shoulder and grab her guitar before rushing out the door.

***

Dave headed down the stairs and towards the entrance/exit of the Institution. His testing began tomorrow, and he actually wasn't minding it that much. Although he hadn't been very happy with being sent to this school, now that he was here, it wasn't that bad. And their educational system was quite good. Dave exited the building to find Becca waiting for him. "You're half an hour early," he commented.

"So are you."

"Our teachers were finished so they just let us go. Remind me, how much longer are you staying? About a week?"

"Yeah, that's what I came to talk to you about." Dave suddenly noticed that Becca had her bag and guitar with her. A closer examination revealed that Becca was distinctly struggling to hold back some greater emotion. Davey moved closer to her and placed a hand on her arm.

"What's the matter?" he asked with a voice full of concern. "Is your father sending you home early or something?" 

"No," Becca drew in a shaky breath. "Grandpa's sick. Really sick. We just got the telegram from Medda…I'm taking a train back to New York in half an hour." Dave didn't need to hear any more.

"C'mere." He ushered Becca into the Institution and took her through a series of hallways. They arrived in a room that resembled the bunkroom at the Lodging House, only cleaner. Dave began packing his things. He, too, did not have much with him.

"Dave, what are you doing?"

"Going with you." Dave finished packing and headed towards the door when Becca stopped him.

"What do you mean going with me?"

"I'm going to Manhattan with you. I have money for a train ticket that my parents gave me in case I needed it. It doesn't look like you're father's going with you--"

"He can't get off work right away. He'll be catching a train later in the day." Dave turned to face Becca directly,

"I can't let you do this on your own. You're going to need someone's support on the way there. And Thomas is my friend, and family of my extended family. That's enough reason for me to be there, unless you really don't want me there."

"No, I want you to come with me," answered Becca softly. "I just can't ask you to drop everything and--"

"You're not asking me to. I'm deciding to on my own." Becca smiled warmly and gratefully at Dave. 

"Thank you."

"Anytime." Dave and Becca made their way through the Institution and were about to leave when Dave halted. "I've got to go tell the office that I'm leaving, just so they know."

"Okay." Becca had only to wait for a few minutes before Dave emerged from the office. He had a somewhat shaken look on his face that disappeared when he gazed at Becca. His expression returned to the serious one he had been wearing before. "So it's all clear, then?"

"Yes, they're letting me go. Not that they can really stop me." Becca nodded, and the pair continued out of the building. They made it to the station ten minutes prior to when the train was to leave. Becca and Dave boarded a fairly empty train and were silent for the majority of the ride. Dave did not need words to give Becca support, his being there was enough. With a gut feeling that she was not going to get much sleep that night, Becca took a nap on Dave's shoulder.

***

The locomotive pulled into the little Brooklyn station around six o'clock that evening. A Brooklyn newsie was waiting for Becca. He did not appear to be startled to see Dave there with her. Becca glanced around, but did not find who she was searching for. "Where's Spot?"

"At t'e hospital," the one whom Davey recognized as Cobs replied. "One in Manhattan. He told me ta wait heah foah ya so I can take ya there." Becca nodded grimly. Cobs turned, and rapidly led Becca and Dave through the streets of Brooklyn, into the swiftly growing dark.


	11. At the Hospital (for lack of a better ti...

Wohoo Wohoo! I'm finally able to get on the computer long enough to type up/post something! Unfortunetly, this is still the office computer. My computer was officially proclaimed dead on Wednesday (sniffle) but actually that's a good thing b/c the thing was dying anyway, and now we've got an excuse to get a better, faster one. We already ordered it, but I don't know how long it's going to take to get the computer and get it set up and running, so I still don't know how often I'll be able to get on. Anyway, thank everyone for all of your reviewing and support!

Chapter 11

When they arrived at the hospital, Cobs excused himself with to go back to Brooklyn, "Spot told me ta make shoah ya got heah, but then I could go home." 

"That's fine," said Dave, "Thank you for all of your help." Cobs nodded solemnly, then disappeared. Dave turned to Becca, whose anxiety was mounting. 

"Now what do we do? How do we find him?" Dave put his hand on Becca's shoulder,

"We go to the front desk and ask them what room Thomas Conlon is in. Seeing as how you're his granddaughter, we shouldn't have too much trouble getting in to see him." Becca's head moved up and down slowly in a silent form of agreement. Dave knew this was all the reaction he was gong to get out of her. The reality of the depth of her grandfather's illness, bad enough for the hospital, caused Becca to be somewhat detached. _'Probably reliving the memories of her mother's death,'_ mused Dave. He headed to the main desk, Becca following him closely. The receptionist appeared preoccupied with something. "Excuse me," voiced Dave. The nurse turned to him,

"Yes? May I help you?"

"Yes. Can you tell me which room is Thomas Conlon's?"

"I'm sorry, blood relations only." Dave gestured to Becca,

"But this is his granddaughter, Rebecca Kelly." The nurse nodded and scanned her list,

"Ah, here we are, room 121. Now remember, only two people in the room at a time. There are already two people in with him now." Becca snapped out of her trance,

"But that's not right. There's three of us," she protested. "There's me, Jack, and Sp—I mean, Sean. We're all his grandchildren, the only 'blood relations' he has left." The nurse sighed,

"Alright, three people in the room," Becca nodded at her,

"Thank you," and took off down the hallway. She skidded to a halt in front of Room 121. From her view outside, she could see Jack, slumped and slumbering in a chair beside the bed. Tucked under a thick blanket was Thomas, his face the disturbingly pale. Becca's bottom lip trembled, and her eyes found Dave's. 

"Go ahead," he whispered gently, "I'll wait out here." He lowered himself onto a couch down the hallway. Becca walked into the room and nearly collided with Spot, who was pacing back and forth throughout the room. They gazed at each other for a second then Becca was in Spot's arms, her tears dampening his shirt. Spot, not shockingly, was holding himself together quite well. Worry etched small lines across his face and lit his eyes with an unnerving light. He merely held Becca, not sure of how else to comfort her, that was Jack's department, not his. 

"How ya doin', kid?" he asked when Becca pulled away.

"I'm alright, you?"

"Ise fine." Becca glanced over at Jack. Spot saw where she was looking and made a move to go wake him up. "I think it's time foah Jacky-boy ta get up." Becca took hold of Spot's arm,

"No, don't, leave him the way he is. I don't think any of us are gong to get much sleep tonight, so let him rest now." Spot continued on towards Jack, however.

"Wese takin' turns sleepin'. He told me ta wake him up if Grandpa wakes up oah if ya get heah." Spot shook Jack's shoulder, "Rise and shine, Jacky-boy. There's someone heah that you've been wantin' ta see foah awhile." Jack pulled his eyelids from his eyes. They opened wide when Jack saw Becca standing beside Spot.

"Becky!" Jack leapt from his seat and engulfed Becca in a gigantic hug. "I've missed ya!"

"I've missed you too, Jack," Becca returned in a shaky voice. "How are you holding up?"

"Okay. How 'bout you?"

"I'm doing good enough." Silence fell over the siblings and cousin as they gazed at what had brought them all into the same room from Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Kingston. "He looks so peaceful, in a frail way," commented Becca finally. "It's scary, though. I've never seen him look so…weak."

"He's a Conlon," Spot replied. "He's strong, even if ya can't see it." The Kelly siblings nodded in agreement, and they, along with Spot, settled in for a tiresome night.

***

Blink and Race shifted the weight of their papers and shuffled meekly into the hospital. "Are ya shoah this is the right one?" the former hissed to the latter.

"I'm shoah," answered Race. He scuffled up to the front desk and cleared his throat,

"Excuse me, Ma'm?" The receptionist glanced up and had to fight the urge to grumble in exasperation. These…newsies and the like had been pouring in and out of the hospital since early the morning before. And not one of them seemed to grasp the concept of visitor's hours or only two people in a room at a time. She forced a smile onto her face.

"How may I help you?" Race tipped his hat,

"If it's not too much hassle, could I trouble ya ta inquire the whereabouts of a certain Thomas Conlon?" The nurse sighed. Should she bother to tell them that he already had four visitors? It probably wouldn't make any difference.

"Room 121." 

"Thank ya kindly, Ma'm. Ya wouldn't perchance be interested in buyin' a pape, would ya?" It's only a penny." The nurse shook her head. Race decided not to push the matter further—the nurse seemed to be near the breaking point for one reason or another. "Alright." Race tipped his hat to her again, as did Blink. They were heading down the hallway when Blink's head snapped up. He elbowed Race,

"Hey Race, d'ya see who I see?" Race peered in the direction Blink was pointing,

"Yeah, that's Dave."

"What's he doin' heah?" Race smacked the back of Blink's head,

"What d'ya think he's doin' heah? Jack had Medda send a telegraph ta Becca. Dave ain't just gonna let her come down heah on her own with her grandpa sick." Blink walked over to the sleeping Dave, stepping around the bags and guitar. He asked over his shoulder to Race,

"Should we wake him up?"

"Don't need to. I'm awake," Dave stood up stiffly while stretching. Race hopped over the things that had been tossed on the floor, coming to stand beside Blink.

"Heya, Dave," he shook vigorously with the curly-haired boy.

"Hi Race, Blink. What are you two doing here?"

"Giving Jack and Spot their papes so then can sell taday. But we could ask ya the same thing," Blink returned.

"I wasn't going to let Becca come down here by herself. She needs support."

"See, I told ya," whispered Race to Blink.

"So Dave," Blink asked, eyeing the baggage strewn about, "haven't ya gotten a chance ta go back home yet and dump yoah stuff?" Dave shook his head,

"No. We got here around 7 or 8 last night and haven't left since. Besides, my parents don't exactly know I'm here. I'm supposed to be testing in Kingston today."

"Yoah testing starts taday?" queried Race.

"You're gonna be able ta make the tests up, right?" Blink was beginning to get the feeling that Dave was hiding something. Dave mumbled incoherently while staring down at his feet.

"What was that, Dave?" Dave raised his head to meet Race's eyes.

"No. I'm not going to be able to make up the tests. I'm out of the Institution—that's what they told me when I told them I was leaving, even though I explained that it was an emergency." Race and Blink's faces were splayed with shock. They opened their mouths with protests ready to spew out when Dave cut them off. "Please, just don't say anything about it, especially not when Becca is around. Over the past week or so she's become kind of excited about what I'm learning and where it might have me headed. You know she won't be happy when she finds out I gave that up, even though we all know, even she does deep down, that it's worth it, that this is more important. But I don't want to upset her. She's under enough stress right now." Race and Blink mulled over this for a moment, then agreed.

"We won't say anythin', Dave."

"Thank you." A sharp clapping sound, like feet on the floor hurrying in their direction, caused the three to peer down the hallway. It was Rhys.

__

I have another chapter finished, but not typed up. I really need to catch up on reading on this sight since I haven't been able to get on ff.net in like two weeks, so if I have time later today I'll type it up and post it. If this chapter isn't as good as it should be, if it's choppy or anything like that, I apologize. I've had a lot of work to do recently, and not a lot of time to focus on writing. I will have time soon, though, so I really hope this gets better. I'm sorry for the chopiness, and thank you once again for all your reviews/support!—Kora.


	12. Waiting for Papes

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"Would ya just stop glancing ovah at her and go ovah there and ask her?" Snoddy complained. Skittery grumbled and took his eyes off a certain curly-redheaded newsgirl.

"And what, have her laugh in my face?" Dutchy sighed,

"Please, that's pathetic. Ya know Clover wouldn't do that." Skittery remained stubborn,

"Okay, so maybe she wouldn't laugh at me, but she wouldn't say yes either."

"Skitts, come one," Snoddy protested. "It's just asking her ta sell with ya, it's not a big deal, like a date." Skittery balked at the word "date."

"Date? Who said anything about a date? We're just friends; this ain't a date, is it?" Dutchy held back a laugh. Skittery had changed a lot in the past few weeks, but he still had traces of his old cynicism. Significant traces, especially in situations like this.

"No one said anythin' 'bout a date, just that by askin' her ta sell with ya, it ain't askin' her on a date. Now get ovah there and ask her 'fore she gets her papes and leaves." He and Snoddy pushed Skittery in Clover's direction then prepared themselves to coach him on.

***

Clover was chatting with Ebony and Hazel while waiting in line to get their papers when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Skittery. "Can I talk ta ya for a second, Clover?"

"Sure." Clover excused herself from her friends. "Is there something you need?" Skittery scuffed the ground with his heel. He caught a glimpse of Dutchy and Snoddy, who waved him on. Hazel noted the two urging Skittery on, and pointed them out to Ebony, who rolled her eyes while Hazel covered a laugh with her hand. Clover's heart beat faster as she waited for Skittery to say something. "Uh, Skittery?" The brown-eyed newsie looked up at Clover,

"Yeah?"

"You wanted to tell or ask me something?"

"I was just wondering, um…do you want to sell with me this morning?" Clover tried not to smile. All that for something so simple.

"Aw, Skitts, I'm sorry, but Hazel, Ebony and I are already selling together."

"Oh." Skittery resumed studying his feet with a very dispirited countenance. Clover fought the urge to go hug him around the shoulders to cheer him up. _(Clover is one of those people that hug a lot. I'm like that sometimes too, so beware!! Muahahaha…um okay yeah I'm finished now)_

"But," voiced Clover. Skittery's shoulders perked and head picked up at the "but." Clover continued. "I can sell with you this afternoon." Skittery smiled one of those cute and goofy guy smiles,

"Okay," and rejoined Dutchy and Snoddy.

***

Ebony and Hazel were whispering excitedly to each other when Clover returned. "So, what did he want?" asked Hazel.

"Was he askin' ya out?" added Ebony. Clover's face grew hot,

"No, he wasn't asking me out. We're just friends, remember?" she stressed. "He wanted to know if I could sell with him this morning. I told him, no, I was selling with you."

"Oh, why'd ya say no?" Ebony scolded in a whine-ish tone. "We'll let ya ditch us just this once!" Clover laughed,

"You're a riot, Ebony, you know that? Don't worry, I told Skittery that I'd sell with him in the afternoon." Ebony's expression brightened,

"Oh, well, that's better, then. Aw, ain't the two of ya so cute!"

"Ebony," growled Clover in exasperation, "how many times do I have to tell you that Skittery and I are just friends? He probably wants to talk to me, but is uncomfortable saying whatever he wants to say around everyone else."

"Then," Ebony countered, "why was Snoddy and Dutchy coachin' Skitts on as he was talkin' ta ya?" Surprise dominated Clover's features for a second until she came up with a reasonable explanation.

"Even though he wants to talk with me, he's scared to ask because he thinks that I'll think it's something else and I'll say no, or I'll just flat out reject him no matter what. It sounds dumb because of how much he's opened up to me, but this is Skittery we're discussing." Ebony was unsure, but this _was_ Skittery they were talking about. She might have pressed her argument further, but they had reached the barred Distribution window. Ebony bought her papers and waited as Hazel and Clover purchased theirs. The three walked off, belting out headlines that, luckily, did not need much improving.


	13. Making Amends

Wohoo __

Wohoo! On Tuesday, my dad ordered the new computer! It'll take 8-10 working days to come in, but still, I'll be back on the computer at a regular basis soon! Oh and two other things that made me happy that I want to share with all of you. First, I found the entire Horace Greely quote! It's "Go west young man, and grow up with the country." Hehe that made me SO happy. And my mom says that one of Michael W. Smith's early, early albums was titled "Go west young man." I just thought that was cool. And in WWI, an early German nickname for American soldiers was "Grinning Cowboys." Okay, so I'm really reaching for a Newsies connection there, but if it made me happy than it might make at least of few of you happy so it's worth it. Oh and sorry if any of you find this chapter boring. I find it boring myself, but anyway, just r/r anyway please!

Chapter 13

Blink and Race eyed Rhys warily as he approached them. Although they were aquatinted with the changed Rhys, both of them were cautious about abusive, even formerly abusive, fathers from personal experience or direct contact with someone with personal experience. Dave, however, was perfectly comfortable. He had gotten to know Jack and Becca's father better during Becca's stay in Kingston. He waited patiently for Rhys to reach them. Dave's calm caused Blink and Race to relax. Rhys walked up to Dave and grasped his hand in a firm handshake. "Hello, David. Good to see you again."

"You too, Mr. Sullivan." Rhys turned to Blink and Race. 

"Give me a second," he touched his fingertips to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to remember their names. "Kid Blink and Racetrack, correct?"

"Yes, Mr. Sullivan," Blink answered while shaking with Rhys.

"Ya can call us Blink and Race foah short if ya want," added Race when he shook with Rhys. 

"If you like," Rhys returned. He glanced around, "are we close to Thomas's room?"

"Yes," said Dave.

"I'm going to go in there and see if he is awake," Rhys spoke in a low tone. "There are things I need to say to him." Dave nodded and pointed to room 121,

"He's in there. So are Spot, Becca, and Jack." Rhys thanked Dave and softly made his way into Thomas's room. A moment or two later, Spot, a reluctant Jack, and Becca, who was practically dragging the former from the room, emerged. 

"Jack," she hissed at him, "what our father has to say to Grandpa is really important and should be done alone."

"But I just ain't comfortable leavin' Grandpa in there alone, even with him." 

"Don't be dumb, Jacky-boy," countered Spot. "Ya trusted him with Becca foah weeks. 'Sides, wese was gonna have ta leave soonah oah latah ta go sell oah papes anyway."

"Looks like it'll be soonah," Race announced as he handed Spot a stack of the papers he had been carrying. Blink did the same, only he gave papers to Jack. Then the newsies went around, Spot and Jack greeting Dave and Becca hugged Race and Blink. Finally they finished, and Jack asked Dave,

"So what are ya gonna do taday?" Dave shrugged,

"Go home, see if Mama's there, which she probably is." 

"Would you like some company?" Becac piped up. Dave regarded her for a second, then gave in with a heaving sigh that puzzled the others around him.

"Yeah, I would. Besides, there's something I need to tell my parents that you should hear too." Becca's confusion deepened, as did Jack and Spot's. "Blink, Race, could you tell the two of them about it once we're gone?" Blink and Race agreed to. Dave waved to the four newsies as he and Becca gathered their things and made their way out of the hospital, Dave telling Becca that he would explain everything once his parents were there.

Jack turned to Spot, "Ya sellin' in Manhattan taday?"

"Yeah, that way Ise closah ta the hospital." Jack nodded and he, Race, Spot, and Blink left for a day of selling.

***

Rhys tiptoed to the side of Thomas's bed. He was not certain whether or not Thomas was awake, and did not want to wake him up if he was not. Thomas helped Rhys break his uncertainty—"I'm awake, if that is what you're wondering." Rhys felt his throat clasp shut. He had not seen Thomas since he had run away with Samantha. He was sure that Becca had spoken of him to her grandfather, but Rhys did not know what Thomas thought of him at this point in time. 

"Hello, Thomas," Rhys said shakily, sitting down.

"Rhys," Thomas returned.

"I, um, I'm not sure of what to say."

"Your daughter has spoken much for you." Thomas kept his voice so that Rhys could not detect any emotion, merely a casual tone. "She tells me that you have begun a new life, and are trying to make amends for what you did in the past."

"Do you believe her?" asked Rhys falteringly.

"Becca would not lie, especially not about this. She is convinced of your sincerity. She is a very perceptive person and would know if you were not being sincere. So yes, I believe her." 

"She gets that from you," Rhys commented. "The perceptive part." Thomas sighed wearily. Rhys was startled at the sudden weakness in Thomas's voice. _'He's much more sick than he will admit to.'_

"Yes, I suppose so. 'Tis a pity that her mother did not posses such insight." Rhys did not know how to continue that conversation, so he decided to get to the point.

"I've been putting this off ever since I found out that you and my children, and Spot, who I suppose is my nephew, had found each other. It was comparatively easy apologizing to my children. Although Jack was a bit hostile at first, not that I blame him. But with you…I'm not positive of why but it's harder. Not something that I can continue to put off, however. I only wish I had not waited this long. There is nothing else to say save that I am sorry. So very sorry, to an extent that I don't have the words to tell you how sorry I am. 

"I was wrong. I was wrong in encouraging Samantha to run away with me, in taking her away from her family." Rhys gulped, "and I was even more wrong in…hurting her and consequently our children, in all the ways that I did. I don't know if it will make things better, but I can honestly tell you that I loved and still love Samantha. As horrible of a man as I was, and however much it may not make sense, I always loved Samantha. And Jack and Becca are the most important things in the world to me." When Rhys finished, the room was silent. Rhys began to worry that Thomas would not accept his apology when the older man spoke.

"I forgave you long ago. I loved Samantha with all my heart, but I could not find it in myself to hold a long-lasting grudge against any man for long. To do so is poison to the soul. Forgiveness is the only way to be set free, something of which I know you are painfully aware of. That is why I tell you this, so that you may be set free. I forgive you." Rhys closed his eyes and whispered,

"Thank you." Rhys opened his eyes when Thomas spoke again.

"If she were here, Beatrice (Samantha's mother) would do the same." Rhys nodded,

"Again, thank you." At that moment, the nurse appeared and shooed Rhys out, claiming that Thomas needed rest, which he did. Rhys said his good-byes to Thomas, who told him to come back later so that they could talk "about the children and other such matters." 


	14. Here to Stay

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Esther Jacobs opened the door to her apartment only to almost drop her sewing. "David! What are you doing here?" Dave's lips grazed his mother's cheek in a swift kiss as he brushed past her, Becca following him closely.

"I came here with Becca, Mama." 

"Came back with? Wha—"

"It turns out that my father lives in Kingston," answered Becca softly. "I went to visit for a few weeks." The confusion on Esther's face molded to a bright smile,

"Why, how wonderful! Did the two of you have a good time? But why are you back now? If—" Dave raised a hand to try to quiet his mother.

"It's nothing like that. Becca's grandfather is real sick, so she had to come back. I couldn't let her do it alone." Esther was taken aback. 

"Oh, Becca, how awful—if there is anything we can do…"

"It's okay, Mrs. Jacobs. We don't need anything."

"Still, you may never know…" Esther argued.

"I know, Mrs. Jacobs." Esther gazed at her son lovingly,

"And you…David, that was such a gracious thing you did, coming back with her. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Mama. But there's something I need to talk with you and Papa about."

"Alright. He should be home for lunch in a few minutes."

"Where are Sara and Les?"

"Sara's at work. She dropped Les off at the Distribution office this morning. I would assume he's with Jack."

"Jack was at the hospital this morning with us," Becca informed Dave's mother. "He left to sell papers right after we left, but I don't think he was going to meet up with Les. Mush is selling with and watching Les, that's why he wasn't with Blink and Race this morning. Jack told me about it last night."

"That's fine, so long as he's with someone," Esther replied. At that moment, Mayar entered the apartment. He was equally shocked to see David, but waved away Dave's explanation until after lunch. Becca, of course, was promptly invited to eat with them, and she accepted. 

***

When lunch was over, Dave explained to his parents and Becca about being dismissed from the Institution when he made the decision to leave. His parents were upset, but they slowly agreed with Dave that he had made the correct choice. When they were finished discussing this, Dave glanced around. Becca was no where to be seen. Mayar and Esther did not know where Becca was either. "Her things are still here, and I didn't hear the door open or shut, so she didn't leave," Dave thought aloud. An idea came to him, "I'm going to check the roof," he told his parents.

Sure enough, there Becca was. She was showing an unusual amount of concentrated interest in the tomatoes that Esther was growing. Becca looked up when she heard Dave approach. "I stayed long enough to hear was I needed to. I figured that the rest was probably family stuff so I slipped out." 

"You could have stayed." Dave stood a couple of feet away from Becca, not sure of what to say or do. Instead of answering him, Becca launched into what she knew he really wanted to know.

"I don't know whether to be upset, angry, sad grateful, or a little bit of all of the above." She looked to Dave for help.

"I wanted to tell you right away, but with all you were feeling and going through…this morning I figured I'd better tell you sooner than later, and since I also had to tell my parents…" Becca fingered a tomato leaf,

"Race and Blink know, right?" A small trickle of guilt penetrated Dave's voice,

"Yes." When Becca did not say anything, he continued, trying to elucidate. "They asked, and I couldn't lie."

"No, that's okay," Becca assured him in a convincing tone. A tone, however, that still contained the quietness from earlier. "I understand. I'm not mad, not about anything. What the Institution did, even that makes sense when you look at it from an unbiased point of view. Now that I keep thinking in this frame of mind, I'm not upset either. A little sad, maybe, that you've missed that opportunity, but you're the Walking Mouth. There'll be others." Becca smiled at Dave,

"Thank you. What you've done…thank you. I don't…that was the sweetest thing anyone's ever done…" as she trailed off, Dave closed the distance between them and hugged her shoulders.

"You're more important than some boarding school. I'd make the same decision in a split second." Becca drew away suddenly from Dave.

"David, what does this mean? Are you—are you back here to stay?" Dave beamed,

"Yup." Becca grinned resplendently back at him,

"You're back! I'm so glad you're back! Or, you're going to be back, or—wait, I've confused myself…never mind." Dave shook his head with an amused smile on his face.

"You are so funny." Becca's nose crinkled,

"Is that a good thing?"

"Oh yes. It's part of what makes you, **you.**" 

"Ah, I see." 

"You wanna head to the Lodging House so you can drop of your things?"

"Okay."


	15. If Only

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Clover bought her papers, the afternoon edition, and joined Skittery. He already had a stack of papers under one arm. "Hi," he said, somewhat shyly.

"Hello, Skittery," replied Clover. 

"You wanna go now?" 

"Sure," Clover answered slowly. What was wrong with Skittery? He hadn't sounded this nervous around her in awhile. A light clicked on in the back of Clover's head—that had to be it! She had been right earlier. Skittery wanted to tell her something that made him uncomfortable, hence the tense behavior. Clover was about to ask Skittery if there was anything he wanted to tell her when Skitter's voice interrupted.

"Um, Clover, there is somethin' I want ta ask you, but I think maybe it's better if we sell our papes first, so we're not distracted or anything, then talk."

"That sounds good," agreed Clover. The two split apart, resolving to meet each other at that very spot once they were finished selling.

***

Skittery shifted his weight from one leg to another while waiting for Clover. He was not standing there for long when Clover appeared. "You want to talk with me now?"

"Yeah," Skittery responded falteringly. Clover's heart softened—it looked like he was struggling with something, but she could not guess what. She wanted to assist him, but probing Skittery for details usually made him defensive and angry. Clover decided to try a different approach to relax him.

"Would you rather walk and talk, you know, to make everything more casual?" Skittery nodded,

"Yeah." They began strolling down the street. Eventually, Skittery forced himself to explain. "I just wanted ta—I know this is kinda stupid—but I just wanted ta know why you helped me. Get over my family's death and most of my pessimism and everything." Clover paused. She was going to have to handle this delicately. Her reasons for helping Skittery were pure, but if she was not careful he might think that she was just trying to get close to him.

"I don't like to see people in pain. I've been there before and can't stand to see others hurting. Maybe I came across as a little forceful, forceful for you to get better, but I knew that you wouldn't change unless someone really showed that they cared."

"Is that the only reason why you helped me?" prodded Skittery. 

"It was. Still is. I couldn't stand to see you, see anyone, hurting the way you were. You needed someone to show you that they really cared." Skittery's palms began to sweat.

"You cared especially 'bout me?"

"Of course. You, anyone in such pain." Skittery's shoulders drooped. A dispirited air settled around his body, bewildering Clover. However, she managed to convince herself that she was imagining things. 

"I see." Swiftly, Skittery changed subjects to the sudden drop in temperature.

***

Clover flopped onto her bunk and stared at the ceiling. "This is so frustrating!" she exclaimed. Becca rested her arms on Clover's bunk, chin on her wrists. 

"If you won't let him know how you feel, then don't expect him to do anything." Clover rolled over to face Becca.

"Do you have to be at the hospital? It's not that I don't want you here, I just don't want to keep you from something more important and this might take awhile." Becca warmly smiled at the redheaded newsie, though Clover could see shadows of worry and weariness in the depths of Becca's eyes.

"Jack and Spot are over there now. I wanted to go too, but they told me to come back here for a few hours, just to wind down after the trip and everything. One of them will come and get me in an hour or two. But I don't remember that being the topic of discussion. What about Skittery? You sold with him this afternoon—what happened?" Clover absentmindedly wrapped a few curls around her finger,

"Nothing. I mean, well, I'm not sure. We sold apart, then met up when we were done. He asked me, very seriously, why I had helped him. I told the truth—because he needed help and I wanted to help him. The odd thing was, once I told him that, he seemed kind of, well, disappointed. Then he changed the subject to the weather, and we didn't talk about it again." Becca's forehead wrinkled,

"That's really weird. I'm completely stumped. If only I knew what Skittery is thinking." Clover extended a hand to shake with Becca,

"Welcome to the club."

***

Dutchy was doing his best to cheer up an extremely downcast Skittery. However, he wasn't too successful. "Skitts, ya can't expect her to know what yoah thinkin'. Shoah, girls seem ta have this sense thing, like they can always tell when yoah lying and stuff, but they can't read our minds." Skittery fidgeted in his seat on the coach in the Lodging House lobby, but stood firm.

"I asked her, and she said she didn't care about me 'specially or nothin'."

"What, exactly, did ya say ta her, and what was her exact answer?" Skittery grumbled, but complied.

"She was talkin' about how she helped me 'cause she couldn't stand ta see me hurting the way I was. I asked, 'you cared especially 'bout me?' and she said, me, anyone else in as much pain as I was. So ya see, she doesn't like me." Dutchy ran a hand through his hair. Skittery could be so frustrating sometimes, to a point where it was almost comical.

"No, that's where you're wrong. Ya still don't know if she likes ya oah not. One moah time, just so I got things straight, ya like her, right?"

"Yeah."

"And this afternoon ya asked her why she helped ya becausae you wanted ta try and find out if she likes ya back. You thought that one of the reasons why she helped ya might have been because she liked ya, but she didn't say anything 'bout liking ya."

"Exactly!" Skittery snapped. "And it's obvious that she doesn't—"

"No, it's not obvious," interrupted Dutchy. He sat down next to his best friend and rapped on Skittery's skull. "Ya need ta remembah that this is Clover. She'd help anyone that needs help, anyone. Her compassion has nothin' ta do with whether or not she likes someone. She could like ya, but that's not why she helped ya. D'ya get it?" Finally, Skittery understood. A small grin crept onto his face.

"Yeah, I think I do!" The grin disappeared. "But now what do I do?" Dutchy clapped Skittery's back.

"There's only one thing ta do, Skitts. Ya gotta tell her that ya like her." Skittery blanched, and his lips twisted, forming a sort of nervous line.

"Is that the only way?"

"That's the only way." Skittery sighed and ducked his head. Gradually, he lifted it, and managed to sputter out,

"Alright."


	16. Wilderness

Chapter 16

_WOHOO!Well, in case there's any of you out there that don't know yet, my new computer is here, up and running!Sorry it took so long to post this new chapter, just the past week has been hectic and I had a really hard time writing what I've written in this chapter.So if this chapter is bad, like too sappy or something, I'm sorry, I've just never written something like this before and I'm not quite sure how to do it.Thank you for all who have reviewed.Oh and one thing—could you please go r/r "Another Fine Day" by JosiahGirl because it is a very, very, good story with a couple really good plot twists, and she doesn't have very many, if any reviews besides what I've reviewed.Thank you!!_

Chapter 16

There was nothing more the doctors could do, the nurses said.This resulted in an almost entire corner of a hallway in the hospital being packed with newsies.They waited in suspense outside the door, each holding their breath, each wondering how Jack, Spot, and Becca would take it.

The three were the only ones in the room save Thomas.Rhys had just left, for he and Thomas spent the entire afternoon "clearing things up."He insisted on exiting the room, giving the grandchildren and their grandfather privacy.Since Thomas gave Rhys permission to leave, no one else could argue.Now he (Rhys) was out in the hallway as well, making his best effort to get to know his children and nephew's friends better.Due to the circumstances, the newsies tried especially hard to become more acquainted with Rhys as well.

Spot resumed pacing the room while muttering, "what d'the doctahs know, the quacks, they ain't Conlons, they don't know how strong wese are."Becca was scrawling away, her writing instincts activated by the heightening emotions that swamped the room in an ever-thickening fog.Jack went back in forth between the two, trying to calm down the former while being swatted away by the latter for reading over her shoulder.All activity cased when a hacking cough followed by a wheezing intake of breath broke the relative silence, like a clanging church bell.

Jack, Spot, and Becca rushed to Thomas's bedside, Spot standing parallel to Becca and Jack.The sickly man quieted his cough and squinted mock-menacingly at Becca, a twinkle in his eyes."An infernal scratching woke me from my doctor-prescribed rest, and a dream I was quite enjoying."Despite the humor in Thomas's words, his voice was evidently more frail than what was healthy."It sounded distinctly like a pencil on paper."Who is the culprit?"Becca raised a meek hand, making no effort to wipe the petite grin off her face.Thomas reached out to her, "Well, let's have it then.May as well read what woke me up, for there's no getting back to sleep now."

Becca's grin faded as she hesitantly handed the paper over to her grandfather, much to the bafflement of Spot and Jack.Even though Dave was Becca's proclaimed editor by the songwriter herself, Becca was still often reluctant to let Dave read much of what she wrote before she read it over a few times first. This timidity was the same, if not magnified, with anyone else save Thomas.Becca would always give her grandfather writings of hers without even taking a single glance at the finished product.

Thomas's eyes lingered on the paper for a while as he carefully read every word.After a long silence, Thomas raised his gaze to meet Becca's."Is this really how you feel?"Becca squirmed as she stammered an answer,

"Well, it's just…the mood here is so…and with all that's…and everything the doc—doctors say…" she trailed off, looking deeply into her grandfather's eyes as he looked into hers.Becca felt a calming peace settle around her. For the first time in her life, the phrase "everything's gonna be alright," had a tangible meaning.Thomas stretched out the hand that held Becca's paper and she took her writing back.In a fluid yet pensive movement, Becca took up her pencil and scribbled a few more lines at the bottom of the paper.She handed it back to Thomas when she was finished.

The elder Conlon read over her completed writing and nodded slowly in approval.The motion was rusty, like gears that hadn't been used or taken care of in years being forced into action, so that Jack half expected to hear the squeaking complaint of the underused machinery as it turned."Much better.Ends quite profoundly this way."Thomas folded up the paper with shaky, fumbling hands.He gave the paper back to Becca and lay his head back against his pillow with a groaning sound that he unsuccessfully tried to conceal.Jack, Spot, and Becca's faces poured over with concern as they leaned in closer to their grandfather, asking him various questions about what they could do to make him more comfortable, how they could help him, did he want to be alone so he could get some good rest, did he want one of them to get a nurse or doctor, etc.Thomas waved them quiet.

"No, no, I'm fine.Just the three of you stay here, that's all you can do."He peered directly at Spot, who was about to protest, and silenced him."Even you, Sean."Thomas had never taken to calling Spot by his newsie name when they were alone.He understood Spot's desire to be the leader of Brooklyn when they were around the newsies, but when it was just them, he asserted to not let Spot forget who he was.Though, Thomas never called Jack "Francis" or "Frankie" because he knew it was a sensitive subject.'Spot', however, was merely a name used to inspire a sense of fear into the general newsie masses."Your legions of loyal Brooklyn newsies and various 'boides' as you so vaguely call them cannot do anything.What I need most is for you to be my grandson and leave everything else outside that door for just the time being."IF anyone else had asked this of Spot, the Brooklyn leader would not have complied.But his grandfather, that was different.Nodding as any trace of the famous Spot Conlon smirk disappeared—this situation was too grave for any smirking—Spot whispered,

"I will, Grandpa."Thomas slowly closed his eyes, opening them a moment later.(A moment that consisted of various forms of panic in his grandchildren.)

"Becca, come here."The sixteen-year-old's lip quivered as she moved closer to her grandfather.Thomas gazed at her for a handful of seconds before reaching up to touch her cheek."You're the mirror image of your mother.You've got a great gift.Keep writing, and make sure to keep this boys in line."

"I will, Grandpa."Thomas's gaze turned to Jack.

"And you, Jack."Becca stepped aside to allow her brother nearer to their grandfather.

"Yeah, Grandpa?"

"You see yourself as the leader of the group sitting outside.Many of them look up to you, but even more are your friends as well.Some friends are closer than family can ever be.Your true family are the people you love, whether or not they are blood related.Always remember that."Jack's voice was thick,

"I will."Finally, Thomas's eyes swerved to Spot.

"Ah, Sean."Spot fought to keep his heart from beating too hard as he followed his grandfather's beckoning hand.

"Grandpa?"

"You are a true and natural leader, Sean.And you are doing a fine job at what you do.I realize that it is necessary to maintain a certain image whilst in your leadership position, especially when it fits your personality.I am sorry that I never said this before, and even sometimes made it to seem like I did not fully approve of the way you lead your newsies.But I am proud of you."Spot nodded, not trusting his voice.His grandfather understood.Thomas arranged his head so that he had a clear view of all his grandchildren.

"I am proud of each and every one of you, and I love all of you beyond what words can express."With that, he lay his head in a resting position and with a few words about rest in a tone barely the volume of a whisper, the rise and fall of Thomas Conlon's chest ceased.


	17. Clearing the Air

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Five days had passed since Thomas' death.Spot had stayed in Manhattan till after the funeral, then returned to Brooklyn.Becca and Jack were back to their reasonably normal selves.Everything seemed the same.But it wasn't.Tension between Skittery and Clover was mounting, and if there had been a newsie that previously did not know of the attraction between the two, he/she knew now.Skittery was about to tell Clover of his feelings towards Clover when Thomas' condition worsened.The days following Thomas' passing had not been the greatest time either for such talk.Now, however, seemed perfect.The only problem was, Skittery lost his nerve.

***

"That's it.If I go on not telling him, I'll just be lying.It'll be letting him believe that I only see him as a friend, but I see him as more.I've got to tell him."Clover glanced around the bunkroom (Manhattan Newgirl's Loding House) at the silent faces of Hazel, Ebony, and Becca."Well?"

"Well what?" Becca replied.

"Well, aren't you going to say something?Help me figure out what to do?"Hazel shrugged her shoulders,

"I'd say ya got it pretty well figured out yourself."She turned to Ebony for approval, who agreed.Clover grumbled,

"You know, you're really not helping."

"I don't think you need any help.I think you already know what to do."Clover looked uneasy for a second, then an elated grin spread over her features and lit her eyes.With a near-squeal of delight, Clover rushed out of the bunkroom to the boy's lodging house.

***

"Alright, Clover, before you say anything, I have to tell you something."Skittery took a deep, trembling breath, and continued."Now, don't get mad, but I gotta get this off my chest and I can't keep not telling you, anyway. See…I like you.The more-than-a-friend like you.I don't know for how long, but I just really realized it right before Mister Conlon got sick. I don't expect you to like be back or anything.I just needed to tell you that, 'cause it's something you ought to know."Skittery finished with a shaky release of breath.He stared at the blank face before him.He threw his hands up and turned away and gazed down off the roof to the street below.

"I knew it, I was right.I can't do this.Why am I even bothering?"Dutchy strode over to Skittery's side,

"No, ya should to this, ya have ta do this."

"Yeah, I tried, ran through it with you, but you only stared at me."

"That's cuz I was confused."

"You were confused?You're the one who told me all that stuff."Dutchy waved his hands, trying to explain.

"Yeah, I told ya all that, but that didn't mean you're supposed ta tell Clover all that stuff.See, ya told me ta pretend ta be Clover for ya, right?"Skittery didn't understand,

"Yeah…so?"

"Well, I was pretending to be Clover.A confused Clover.Cuz ya said a lot of stuff at the beginning and that might confuse her so ya might just wanna cut ta the chase when it's actually Clover you're talking to."Skittery mulled this over and was about to answer when Snoddy's head appeared at the base of the roof.He was standing on the fire escape.

"Hey guys, Clover's here.She's looking for ya, Skitts.Ya want me ta tell her ta come up here?"Skittery was unable to speak, due to his suddenly dry mouth.So, he nodded."Alright."Snoddy winked at Skittery and disappeared.Dutchy clapped Skittery on the back, flashed him a thumbs-up, and followed Snoddy off the roof.

***

Clover climbed up the fire escape and onto the roof to see Skittery standing in the middle."What are you doing up here by yourself?" she asked him.Skittery shrugged, clearly uncomfortable.

"I was just up here with Dutchy, talking."

"Oh, okay."Clover closed the distance between them and stood beside Skittery."You feeling okay?You seem kind of…out there."

"I'm fine."Yet, Skittery kept avoiding Clover's eyes.Since it didn't seem like he was going to say much of anything anytime soon, Clover decided now was the time to tell him what she came here to tell him.But she found that she couldn't do it, at least not yet.Her excitement from earlier had strangely faded, and she couldn't figure out why.Instead, she asked him something that she had been wondering about for awhile.

"Hey Skittery?Do you think you could tell me why you asked me why I helped you?"Skittery's heart leapt up in his chest,

_'Oh no, here it comes,' he thought.He couldn't lie to her, he just couldn't."Well, part of it was curiosity.But the main reason was…I wanted to know if you helped me because…because you like me.Not as a friend, but **like me."A wave of many emotions swept over Clover.In a barely coherent voice, she answered,**_

"I do.Like you."Skittery could not believe it.Did he just here what he thought he just heard?Clover liked him?That way?The way he liked her?Was it possible?Shocked, he was unable to find his voice.Taking Skittery's silence as a bad sign, Cloverhurried into an explanation."I do like you.But it's not like that, I mean, I didn't help you so I could get close to you.I would have helped you no matter what.But I do like you."In a guilty voice, Clover went on."I'm sorry, I just had to let you know that.I'm sorry, I'll leave now."As he saw Clover leaving, Skittery found his voice,

"No, wait!I do too!"Clover stopped, her forehead wrinkling in bewilderment.

"You do too?"

"Like you.**That way."**Now it was Clover's turn to be stunned.Skittery made his way over to stand in front of her."I don't know how long I've liked you.I've know I like you for about a week now.That's why I asked you why you helped me.I wanted to know if you liked me back."Clover stared off into space,

"I was worried that you would think that I was trying to get close to you."Skittery met Clover's eyes,

"I would never think something like that of you.You would never do that."Clover couldn't tear her eyes away from Skittery's,

"So what do we do know?" she queried slowly.

"I think there's only one thing to do."Skittery leaned in towards Clover and his lips found hers.For one brief moment, life was perfect.

**The End**

_Alright__, that's it!If you want more, go read "Forward to the Past" (please go r/r it, please!!!) It's a sequel-of-sorts to this and Caroline Gottschalk Jackson's Scamp, not to mention it's got much more stuff.The sequels part is actually the mini-plot, while the main plot is very action/adventure.So please go read it!After "Forward to the Past", (or maybe eventually during it), I'll be writing/posting a Racetrack fic.I've got different things in mind for that too.I think you'll like it._


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